


Winter

by pinky_heaven19



Series: Seasons of Love [3]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinky_heaven19/pseuds/pinky_heaven19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a good autumn, winter has to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

It was going to be the first time in history that Christmas had come and gone and nothing bad had happened. No fighting, no disease, no nothing. It had been only me and Mark, and it had been glorious. We got calls from Collins – who was teaching in the west coast – and from Joanne and Maureen - who were enjoying the holidays abroad. A few days before Christmas we'd received a letter from Mimi, who couldn't seem to grab the phone to call us, but was comfortable writing. Benny sent us a card and called a few days late. 

Not one of them knew about us. It's not like we were hiding or anything, we knew they would never judge us, we just felt like it was something that was ours. Only ours. 

– We should do something about this tree – Mark said, looking at the poor excuse that was our tree. It was about to be thrown away when we snatched it up from a store that was replacing it with a new one. It was far from being pretty, but we were happy we'd got it. 

– It's still not so bad.

– It's already January 13th. This should have been gone weeks ago – he said, and I shrugged.

– I'm going to bed – he said.

– I'll be with you soon – I said, and he nodded and shut the bedroom door behind him. It was freezing and I felt stupid for not going to bed earlier. Now I'd have to wait for it to be late enough so that Mark would be asleep. 

As much as I was cautious about it, some things just couldn't be helped. I did the best I could: I washed my hands constantly, I avoided touching my face, I didn't go to crowded places and tried my best not to touch door handles and handrails. But still, I had gotten a nasty cold. 

It had started harmless enough, just a tickling in my throat when I woke up and a runny nose. Then came the slight cough, which I was still able to hide. I'd taken all kinds of cold medicine in hopes of not letting it develop any further, but it was useless. 

Freezing down to my bones, I went to my bedroom, to my bed, on which I hadn't slept in months. It was bare, just the sheet (which I couldn't remember when I had washed). I put on another layer of clothes and turned off the lights, rolling into a ball on the bed and doing my best to sleep. I couldn't, so I made sure I was up before Mark the next day. 

– What time did you go to bed last night? - he said, yawning and sipping the coffee I'd made. 

– Late. You were already sleeping – my voice was hoarse and my throat was on fire. 

– I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren't there.

– I had to use the bathroom a couple of times.

– Hum – he was still too sleepy to pay full attention to the conversation. 

– What are you up to today? - I asked. 

– I'm going to Broadway today, actually – he said – I still have to film some things before it snows. Do you wanna come?

– No, thanks. I'll stay in.

– You haven't been out much – he said, putting on his coat and scarf. 

– It's too cold to go out.

_Please, go. Please, let me stop talking and holding back coughs that are becoming more and more difficult to stiffle._

– Okay. I'll be back around noon, I'll bring us something to eat – he said.

– Great – I said, pretending to sip my own coffee.

– Have a nice day – he said, getting his equipment and kissing the top of my head before he left. I smiled in spite of my discomfort. 

It was a relief when he went out and I got to cough and lay down on the bed and cover myself with a lot of blankets. I drank tea and water all morning, every sip an agony. I felt very, very cold, but I didn't know if it was because of the low temperature or if I had a fever. 

I fumbled out of bed when I heard Mark coming in.

– Sorry I'm a little late – he said, excitedly – but I filmed some great stuff! - he said, putting down two boxes of chinese food. I wasn't hungry at all, but I forced myself to eat a little of the noodles.

– Hum – I mumbled, trying to look even a bit excited. 

– Aren't you hungry? - he said, chewing mouthfuls. 

– Not so much, I just woke up. 

– I see – he said, and sat on the table next to my food. I didn't look up. I should have, because he touched my chin and pulled my face up.

– You're a tad warm.

– I was sleeping, and your hands are cold.

– That's true – he said, and smiled widely. He started babbling about his morning and I was nodding and humming in all the right occasions. Thank God I didn't have to contribute much to the conversation.

– Listen, I was thinking of getting some footage of Times Square in the evening. How would you like to come with me tonight and we'll act like tourists and explore around? 

– Sure, yeah – I said, thinking that I would have to come up with a good excuse before it was dark. 

– Great – he said, throwing the box away and rushing to brush his teeth – I'll see you tonight, then – he waved goodbye and letf in the same hurry he'd arrived.

I would usually be super happy to see him so excited about a film, but I was feeling so miserable that I couldn't. So I hid from him. I left a note saying that I had something to do and went for a walk around the time I knew he would come home. I came back after I assumed he was already off to Times Square and went straight to bed. I was feeling so so cold, and I was coughing my lungs out. My hope was to fall asleep before he arrived so I wouldn't cough and alarm him.

The last thing I wanted was to worry him. He was always so desperate whenever I got sick. But I had come around every time and it wouldn't be different this time. I would hate myself – and him – if he knew and started to look at me with pity in his eyes. So I hid.

I was almost dozing off when I heard him coming.

– Roger? - I heard him call from the living room. 

I pretended to sleep as I listened to him getting ready for bed. I turned to my side, facing the wall opposite the door.

– Hey – he said into my ear when he crawled in bed with me – You sleeping?

– Almost – I mumbled.

– Sorry – he said, and he hugged from behind, nuzzling my neck – It's so cold outside and you're so warm. 

I didn't say anything. I was concentrating on not coughing. 

– Why didn't you come with me? What were you doing?

– I had some places to go.

– Where?

I pretended to be asleep. Eventually, I did, only to wake up with an uncontrollable urge to cough. I quickly got up and went to the kitchen, coughing into a pillow to muffle the noise. I felt like every cough ripped my throat open, and I panicked when I saw Mark staring at me from the threshold.

– What's wrong? - he asked, coming closer.

Tears were running down my face and I was coughing so much I couldn't speak. And there it was, the worried look on his face that I was fighting so much to never see again. 

– I choked – I managed to say, taking deep breaths – I came to drink some water and I choked. 

– Well, come to bed – he said, and took my hand to guide me back to the bedroom.

Now that the worst had passed, I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. 

– Here, cover yourself – he said, putting the three blankets we were using over us – You're shivering. 

I really was. I felt terrible, and I doubted that I could sleep. My entire body ached, but it was nothing compared to the burning in my throat. 

– Go back to sleep, Mark. I'm fine now – I said, sensing his eyes over me, even in the dark.

– I know – he said, and I was thankful he didn't want to talk more. I couldn't sleep, but I heard his soft snoring throughout the whole night. I pretented to sleep in as he left for work one more time. 

I was getting worse, I could feel that. I couldn't even drink water now, and I felt myself hot. My chest hurt from all the coughing. As terrible as I felt the entire day, I still forced myself to go out when I imagined Mark would be home. And this time, I stayed out. For the first time in years, since the worts period of my heroin addiction, I was spending the night out, alone. 

I wore several layers of clothing, but it was impossible for me to get warm. I found a spot in the community center and there I sat, hugging my knees and occasionally dozing off, only to be woken up by fits of coughing. I couldn't go on like this. I had to go to the hospital, or I would die. It dawned on me that I could be close to my last days here. My last days with Mark. 

I walked back to the apartment rehearsing what I would say. I felt dizzy, faint. When was the last time I ate? I couldn't remember. I glanced at my watch to see it was almost 8 o'clock. Mark could or could not be home. If he wasn't, I was going to leave a note and head to the hospital, and if he was...

As I walked in I heard him on the phone. 

– … not ever since – his speech was cut off when he saw me – Never mind, he's here.

– Hey – I said, and he walked up to me fast. His face was a mask of fury that didn't make any sense to me. He started taking off my leather jacket and I was so stunned that I didn't say anything. He started to roll up my sleeves but couldn't do it due to the many layers.

– Show me your arms – he demanded, his voice cracking. He was so mad.

– What? - I said, feeling more and more confused. It didn't help that the room was spinning.

– I wanna see your arms, damn it – he said, and tried to force my sleeves up again. Suddenly, I realized what he was looking for.

– No, Mark – I stopped him – You won't find any track marks, nothing.

I should have been mad, but I didn't have the energy. I could barey stand. 

– Oh, I won't? Roger, you look like shit, you haven't been eating, you've been avoiding me and now you spend the night out. I may look stupid, but I'm not! - he said, stepping away. I wish he hadn't, because I was supporting part of my weight on him and the room was starting to fade. I felt my hands numb and my lips tingling. I sat down on the floor before I completely lost my senses and hurt myself. 

It seemed like I had closed my eyes for a mere second, but when I opened them I was laying on the floor, and I saw Mark back on the phone. Everything had a white glow to it and I heard him as if from a distance. I listened to him give our address and I didn't have the time to stop him.

– I'm fine – I said, and he hung up and knelt beside me – Don't call anyone.

– Lay down, Roger – he said, and when he pushed me back and put a pillow under my head, I saw his hands shaking. 

_No no no no no no no no no no no no._

It was so easy to close my eyes again and, this time, I didn't open them for a long time. 

I had the feeling of waking up from a deep sleep, and I had to force myself to open my eyes. My vision was entirely filled with Mark. It wasn't a bad sight to wake up to. It took me just a second to realize I was in the hospital.

– Hi – he said to me, and my throat was so dry I couldn't speak at first. He noticed that and gave me a few sips of water. Amazingly, it didnt hurt so much to swallow anymore.

– How long was I out? - I asked, since Mark was clearly out of ideas for small talk.

– Two hours, at most. The nurse has just left after hooking you up with one more IV. 

I looked down and I saw a piece of tape holding a needle in the back of my hand in place, and also one in my arm. Now there was a mark there. 

– How are you feeling? - he said, scootching the chair closer to me. I held his hand and he looked down. I saw his lip shiver and he pressed his eyes closed – I'm so sorry, Roger.

– Don't do this – I said, squeezing his hand.

– You were sick, you needed me and I accused you of...

– I hid it all from you. And I gave you plenty of reasons to be suspicious in the past. Look at me – I said, and he did. He was composed again, and not one tear had fallen. Good. 

– Don't apologize – I said – You couldn't have known. 

– Okay – he said, sniffling. 

– And what did the doctor say? - I asked as if I wasn't terrified of the answer.

– Your throat is infected. 

I wasn't surprised, but it was still devastating to hear it. 

– But the good news is that your fever is pretty much gone, which is a sign that the massive amount of antibiotics they injected in you is starting to work. Also, it seems that the infection didn't spread to your lungs. The cough you tried to hide from me is just that, a cough from the cold. 

– The painkillers are working, too – I said, grateful.

– The doctor warned me that you might cough up some pus.

– Well, that won't be pretty.

– I've seen worse things coming out of you – he reminded me, and I frowned.

– Let's not dwell on that – I said, and he smiled. God, it was so good to see him smile.

– I also called Collins, he knows about us now.

– And what did he say?

– I believe his exact words were “about fucking time”. 

I smiled and he did so, too. The tension was fading a bit. 

– I'm going to get better, okay? I promise.

He looked down again and nodded. I had broken countless promises before, but this one I didn't. After a week I was able to go back home with my T cells reaching a peak of 700. The doctors were impressed. 

Many people came to visit and I held myself strong. I only broke down once, when Benny showed up the day I was going home and paid for my hospital stay. Mark held him so tight I thought he was going to break him. 

It was a feeling I couldn't describe when I walked back into our flat to find our place sparkling clean and with a lot of the clutter gone.

– What happened here? - I asked Mark, who was smiling proudly.

– I fixed the place up a bit. I don't you to ever get sick again, and I thought a clean space would help. Also, I sold a lot of our stuff that we weren't using and.... - he walked to the fridge and opened it. Inside there were fresh fruits and vegetables. There was chicken and meat in the freezer. Milk, eggs, yogurt, the fridge was filled to the brim. He showed me the pantry and it was also filled with food.

– This is amazing.

– And there is the big surprise – he said, and led me to the bedroom, where the first thing I spotted was a portable heater – We can move this and put it near us wherever we are in the flat.

– Thanks, Mark – I said, and pulled him close, circling his waist. I fell on the bed and he fell on top of me.

– I left the heater on, are you comfortable? - he asked, straddling my waist.

– I'm not gonna break, Mark. I'm fine, now – and I really was. 

– Not thanks to me – he said, sadly – I should have noticed you were not well...

– Are we back to this again? - I said, annoyed.

– Yes, and I'll feel terrible for a long time, I was such a lousy friend and - 

– Oh, shut up, Mark – I said, and sat up to kiss him. I'd learned it was a great way to shut him up. 

– Are you feeling well for this? - he asked.

– We'll have to find out – I said with a grin and, as it turned out, I was.


End file.
